


so calm the oceans underneath your eyes

by orphan_account



Series: venting thru awsten [3]
Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alcohol, Angst, Anxiety, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Cutting, Dissociation, Drinking, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, LGBT, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Relapse, Self Harm, This is really sad, awsten is meee, geoff is my beautiful gf, like possibly one of the saddest things ive ever done, vent vent vent, wait geoff isnt the abuser its all good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 04:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14634360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: oh how awsten craves a different reality from the one he struggles so bad to escape from.





	so calm the oceans underneath your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning// self harm, cutting, mentions of alcohol, childhood sexual abuse, implied rape.
> 
> stay safe loves <3

**“because with these hands i can change the tide** **  
****today** **  
****it’s okay** **  
****one by one i’ll take down your walls** **  
** **and i hope you'll see there’s nothing to be scared of”**

* * *

******one cut for letting him touch you and not screaming. another for being a slut. another for being alive. another for being a bad, awful, stupid, retarded kid. another for never being enough. a sixth for everything you’ve ever done.**

* * *

****awsten was curled up in bed, alone as per usual, thin arms wrapped desperately around his sensory stuffie as he tried to come back to the now, not stay in the then.

but in so many ways, it was safer inside, because only HE could hurt awsten while he was THERE. because here everyone hurt him. classmates who traced his lips, who stood too close and too much and whispered bad bad bad things in his ears. teachers who accidentally touched his arm, and apologised profusely because they didn’t mean to; but unknowingly caused flashbacks to when he was six.

and when HE was there and HE was laughing loudly and HE was touching and HE was drinking and awsten was trying his hardest to scream but no sound was coming out.

with shaking, scared hands, awsten shut the bathroom door and took the plasters from his wrists, the small, fresh cuts had stopped bleeding. he exhaled, not stressed anymore. running the tap, cold water soothed the gentle throb of the lines he’d put there and he watched the red remnants swirl down the plughole. he dabbed at them with tissue paper and watched them cease to nothing but dark scars.

* * *

he could feel himself detaching again, he could hear his heartbeat, excruciatingly loud. it was too loud. it was too much. too much. too much. and he was sobbing into his pillow again, he’d learned not to make noise when he cried, because then he would get yelled at.

he hates when they yell, it hurts so fucking much.

awsten brushed gingerly at his hoodie, seeing glass shards fall, hearing them collide and shatter with the rough floor tiles in the bathroom.

his father had been mad at him earlier on, so had taken a swig of wine and threw the glass at his son’s head. awsten had ducked out of the way at the right time, not before his father had tried to hit him again and again. the boy had learned not to cry. because crying meant it was real, and he didn’t want this to be his reality.

* * *

he wanted to be with geoff. geoff was his reality, or the one he wanted at least, the one he desired so much it broke his heart into tiny pieces.

he opened geoff’s contact and wearily pressed the call button, he didn’t wanna worry the elder boy, he didn’t wanna scare him, he didn’t wanna be a fucking burden. because awsten didn’t matter, and he knew he didn’t. but he mattered to geoff and to his friends and that was enough to give the younger a flickering ember of hope in his empty chest.

he heard the familiar, almost soothing static of the ring through his trusty headphone cords. “hey baby boy, i’m just on the subway, train times were delayed, i’m sorry babes.” geoff’s voice was gentle, as if he could tell something was troubling his awsten.

awsten could breathe again, geoff’s voice eased so much pain, anxiety and always brought him back. “geoffy, i was, i was back there and HE was angry and my dad was throwing things at me and it was scary i was so scared i was so scared.” he stuttered, whimpering sadly and tearfully down the phone line.

geoff shushed his boyfriend gently, “shhh awsie, shhh it’s okie, it’s okie. geoff’s here. i’m here love. you’re here okie? you’re not six. it’s the january 17th, 2020, you’re 17 today. you’re 17.”

awsten choked back a sob. “im-im-im sorry geoff imsorryimsorryimsorry please don’t yell at me please don’t it hurts it hurts it hurts so bad.”

“oh baby boy, i love you far too much to even raise my voice slightly around you. what they did wasn’t love, it was abuse aws, it was abuse. the world has damaged an angel, my darling; so much so, you can’t even see your own beauty anymore.” geoff exhaled gently, talking about awsten’s parents always made him angry.

“you’re so very beautiful, awsten constantine knight and i’m so very in love with you.” geoff’s voice soothed the storm in his mind, made the hurricane nothing but a gentle breeze taking soft orange leaves from wiling trees.

“i love you geoff,” awsten whimpered through the tears. “i love you with all my heart.”

“i love you too baby boy, i’ll be home soon okie?”

“okie.” awsten whispered.

and for a second, everything was okay.


End file.
